Bellingham High School - Epilogue Yearbook (Bellingham, MA)

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Class Prophecy By Beatrice Remillard It was on a warm June day in 1958 that I returned to Bellingham from my present resi¬ dence in New York. As I was walking down Main Street, I realized just how much Belling¬ ham had changed during ten years. I saw new stores, a post office, a theatre and other new buildings. Suddenly my eyes fells on an antique shop. Being fond of antiques, I promptly entered. The shopkeeper, busy with another customer, left me free to browze around. Many odd things were on display, but it was the inconspicuous mirror in the farthest corner of the room which fascinated me. It reminded me of the magic mirrors my mother used to tell me about in fairy tales. As I stood gazing into the clear, smooth, glass of the mirror; I seemed to hear a voice far off in the distance saying repeatedly in a deep, hushed, tone; “One wish I will grant; one wish I will grant.” Half believing what I was hear¬ ing, I wished that I might have the power to see, but for a moment, into the lives of my for¬ mer classmates. Then a gray mist seemed to pass over the mirror making everything hazy and leaving me with a feeling of suspense and wonderment. The mist then started to clear. It was very dim at first, but soon the scene began to materialize; and I recognized a baseba ll field. Someone yelled, “Murder the bums!” It was the Brooklyn Dodgers playing against the Braves. The pitcher of the Dodgers was play¬ ing catch with one of his teammates. Upon look¬ ing closer, I recognized Norman Garneau as the pitcher. The umpire then started the game, and after he had called a couple of strikes, the sound of his voice struck me as one that I had heard before. To my complete surprise, I found the umpire to be Robert Tuttle. Both Bib and Tracy had taken advantage of their natural ability at sports. Just then, a ball was hit into the stands, causing everyone to duck. Uncovering her hands from her head, who should emerge but Shirley Cowen. Judging from the cabbage-sized dia¬ mond she was wearing, professional baseball must pay quite a bit, especially the pitcher’s share! My vision was then focused on the outside of a large, impressive, building. Hanging on two round posts was the sign City Hospital. As I entered the building, I saw a card with the printed word Supervisor on a desk. A young woman walked to the desk and sat down. It was Arlene Tower. She picked up the phone, said, “Outside line, please,” gave her number and waited. I heard a medley of many voices. All ap¬ peared to be talking at once. I finally made out the words, “Number please—number please.” I realized that I was in a telephone exchange. There, I saw Marion Surette working steadily and efficiently. Marion had become a “hello” girl and seemed to be enjoying herself. At that moment, a man walked in carrying a tool kit. He was none other than Lawrence Mousseau. Larry had become an electrician and a very efficient one, judging by the way he quickly finished a job. Still looking at the mirror, I saw a few large buildings. I knew at once that it was a col¬ lege for I could see the pupils hurrying to their classes. Who should be a professor there, but Howard Crooks. Howie had the intelligence for it, he always did have the highest marks in our class. As the scene faded, I found myself looking at the inside of a room that had a shining smooth floor. While I was thinking it would be a nice place to dance, a man leading a group of people entered the room. He was Carlton Patrick, who was a dancing instructor. The lessons seemed to be over for he picked up his coat, said good¬ night to his pupils, and went out. When Carlton crossed the street, he en¬ tered T. J.’s Ice Cream Parlor. Of course that would be Ted Bennett, and there he was sitting beside the cash register watching the profits pile up. Every thing on the mirror was black for a while, but then I began to recognize the sur¬ roundings as the inside of a night club. The master of ceremonies, Richard Guyette, was just announcing an act. His vocation seemed to please him, for he looked very happy. After completing his announcement, the band started to play a popular tune. Victor Glowka, the saxophonist, was the featured mem-

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CLASS HISTORY ( Continued) Our Senior year came along with all the rapidity of a speeding bullet and our days were overflowing. For the final time we elected our class officers who were Robert Tuttle as Presi¬ dent; Richard Guyette as Vice-president and Freda Schafer and Norman Garneau again as Secretary and Treasurer. Class pictures, rings, the Freshmen Acquaintance Party, the Christ¬ mas Ball, our Leap Yeaf Dance, Mid Year Ex¬ ams, and all the other joys we shared were dimmed only by the thought that this was our last year. No more echoing shouts in the long corridor, no more the cheering at our basketball games studded with superb performances of good sportsmanship by our athletes, Garneau, Crooks, Tuttle, Patrick, Forte, and Berardi with Rose Potter, Shirley Cowen, Phyllis Stratman and Lu Marcet as cheerleaders to keep up their morale. Was it not the immortal Shakespear who said, “The play’s the thing”? And so it was with us when in April we presented “The Mad Hatters” and received congratulations on its success. Also with the advent of spring came the baseball season. All Bellingham High’s talent appeared for spring training. After a few prac¬ tice sessions it was evident that the ability shone on the basketball court by such as Garneau, Patrick, Tuttle and Crooks also extended to the baseball diamond. The team played through a successful season, and the exciting moments of some of those games will leave us something to remember in years to come. Our year was climaxed by the whirl of ac¬ tivities that was class week. Who can ever forget the crowded auditorium on Class Night; that never-to-be-forgotten Class Banquet; the solemnity of Graduation Night, when we donned cap and gown and with a strong feeling of joy and sadness accepted our diploma; and then the Graduation Ball, when we made merry under a roof which would never again see us as Seniors, but rather as Alumni? With the final strains of Auld Lang Syne lingering in the air, we closed the doors of Bellingham High behind us and started out on an open road. € SONG OF THE OPEN ROAD (A Fragment) Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road, Healthy, free, the world before me, The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose. Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune, Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing; Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms, Strong and content I travel the open road. —Walt Whitman

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CLASS PROPHECY ( Continued) ber of the band. It’s a long way from an after school band position to a nationally-famous or¬ chestra, but Vic made the climb. Dick then announced the popular comedi¬ enne, Patricia McMahon. Sounds of clapping greeted her as she stepped up to the mike. Evi¬ dently Pat’s talent for putting across a good story had not left her. Since the beginning of the program, I had seen flashes of light every now and then. I thought it was a photographer snapping the stars in their leisure moments, but I never expected to see Victor Forte as the photographer. How¬ ever, there he was and without a doubt he was enjoying himself immensely. Suddenly there was a disturbance at one of the rear tables. The headwaiter, Harold Evers, after observing the scene for a few min¬ utes, silently raised his hand, signalling for a waiter. Giving the man instructions, Harold went back to occupying himself with incoming guests. The waiter meanwhile escorted the customer to the outside by way of the kitchen. The “chef” wearing a high, white hat stopped decorating a cake to see what was happening. It was Ralph Berardi. Ralph’s practice at baking cakes during high school days had made him one of the most famous pastry chefs in the country. Another scene began to appear in the mirror. I saw a large, immaculate room with desk after desk extending in a line. Reaching the end of the line, I came upon a sign bearing the cap¬ tion: “Personal Secretary.” The door to the of¬ fice opened and out stepped Lucille Pelland. Lucille’s capability for office work had given her a successful career. On another floor of the same building I saw Raymond Jastrzembski working diligently at a desk. Jazz had become a public accountant and was really keeping himself busy judging from the atmosphere about him. A convertible drove up to the building and stopped. The driver was Freda Schafer. She was waiting for Lucille so they could have lunch together. Freda was the owner of a ladies dress shop and it was becoming a “must” stop on all shopping tours. Again a mist passed as if a hand had blotted out the scene. There in the mirror, I saw a large airport. Planes wer landing and taking off at a rapid pace. Two men entered an office in a nearby building. One of the men was Henry Evers. I wasn’t too surprised to find Hank among airplanes, he had made quite a few models in high school. Suddenly there was a roar as a huge passenger plane landed. As it rolled to a stop, the stewardess alighted and stood by help¬ ing the passengers descend. I knew at once that it was Joan Veyette, for hadn’t she always spoken of being a stewardess? It was nice to see that she accomplished what she wanted. A slim, attractive woman came into view and who should it be but Muriel Perreault, fol¬ lowed by her husband. Muriel looked extreme¬ ly happy as a married woman. By this time, a huge crowd had gathered near the plane and the passengers were greeted by reporters and friends. Although I wondered what the reporters were doing there, I soon found out. All the passengers on the plane were members of the famous Bellingham bas¬ ketball team on a country tour. Talking to the reporters was Robert Remil- lard. From the story he was giving them, I surmised that he was a publicity agent for the company, and he was doing a good job of it. The roar of the plane was stilled and the scene faded from my sight. What I saw at first surprised me, for it was a room filled with children, all very active. I knew that I was in a children’s nursery and it was there that I saw Lucille Marcet picking up a toy which was out of the reach of a small boy. Lucille’s patience came in handy among children. Just then Lucille had a caller. It was Phyllis Stratman dressed in a uniform of a nurse. Phyllis was paying Lucille both a friend¬ ly and a business call. When she became a dis¬ trict nurse, Phyllis began making regular visits to the nursery. Pauline Leclaire and Rose Potter then en¬ tered the nursery. Rose and Pauline were among the first few in our class to change their titles from Miss to Mrs. A little baby girl crawled to the women. Pauline picked up her baby and then started helping Rose look for her two children. They were very easily found. It’s not every day you see a set of twins with bright, curly, red, hair, is it? Did I see them? Was it really true? Know¬ ing I would never find the answer I purchased the mirror as a memento of that never-to-be- forgotten day.